Darrel Young: An American Wizard
by D-RockSteady
Summary: This story, set in the Potterverse, follows an American wizard and professor at Drouillard Academy of Magic as he goes undercover for the American Auror's Office to investigate the disappearances of numerous Muggles near the school.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: A Family Favor

A large grandfather clock ticked past 7:25 in the corner of a small apartment. Darrel Young sat in a tall, wing backed chair facing a television set. He was in his late twenties but had a disposition that made him seem much older. His legs were crossed and his hands were folded over a long-thin rod of wood. On the television was a local newscast reporting a slew of disappearances from the downtown area in the last week.

A table sat next to the chair and on it was a piece of parchment folded in three among several magazines and a large coffee table book. Darrel had read over the letter a few times upon his return from a nice vacation a week ago. He had hoped that the letter had said anything but what he knew would be on it: a notification of his parents' periodic visits.

Darrel had taught at Drouillard Academy of Magic for four years. His parents still insisted on visiting him every season since he graduated from the same Academy and moved out at age seventeen.

Darrel flicked his wand at the TV and it clicked off. A kitchen sat off to the side of the main room and he got up from the chair and made his way over to it. The apartment itself was a strange compilation of the mundane and the bizarre. Had a Muggle walked in, they would find themselves half-way assimilated and half-way lost. Darrel's apartment was furnished with a few wing-backed chairs and a small modern love seat.

One wall was dominated by a large television that was flanked by a hundred year-old grandfather clock. The table at the center of the room was covered in magazines, some of the covers were dormant, others moved. The kitchen was mostly modern Muggle, although the dishes in the sink were currently being scrubbed by a floating sponge.

Darrel remembered the letter and how his father, Abraham, insisted that he find a way to install a fireplace despite how it would look if he had a fireplace large enough to walk into in a one-bedroom apartment. Because of this, and his father's insistence on travel by Floo Powder, meant that his father and mother would be coming to him by way of shooting out of his oven covered in green flames.

Darren checked the grandfather clock that was visible from the kitchen, which read 7:30. He leaned down and opened the oven as the second hand reached twelve and took a step back. Almost immediately, a flash of green light came from the oven and a man shot feet first from it and skidded across the floor.

Darrel offered a hand and helped the man off the floor. The man's relation to Darrel was immediately apparent; his face was nearly the same, but slightly longer and with a stronger jaw. His hair was cut close to his head and he had a short goatee. He stood up and shook Darrel's hand.

"Good to see you, Darrel," his father said.

"Good to see you too, Dad."

Then, another flash of light and another person came from the oven, this time head first. However, instead of a petite woman as Darrel had expected, another man had come from it.

"Uncle Mal?" Darrel asked.

"Abe, did you see that? I told you I could come out head-first." Mal rushed Darrel and gripped him in a long-armed hug. "How you doing, Dare?" Malachi Young was Abraham's younger brother and sported a much longer haircut that his brother did.

"I'm great Uncle Mal. What are you doing here?" Darrel asked.

"Well, let's wait for your brother."

"Sam's coming too?"

A last flash of green light and another man came from the over. He slid out gracefully and jumped to his feet. He was a more muscular Darrel with a longer face like his father. Abraham, Mal and Sam walked to the living room and took up the three chairs surrounding the table.

"Sit down, son," Abraham said from the tallest of the chairs.

"What about mom?"

"She's not coming."

"Why not?" Darrel asked.

"Sit down and we'll tell you, idiot," said Sam.

Darrel didn't quite understand but he shut the oven and plopped down on the love seat that sat opposite the chairs.

"What's going on?" Darrel asked.

Abraham shifted in his chair. He seemed uncomfortable in the situation. It was odd for him. Darrel was used to the hardened Auror that he had been raised with. They didn't call him Stonewall Abe for nothing. "Well, Darrel, we want you to do something for us."

"For the family?" Darrel asked.

"No, for the office."

"For the Aurors?"

"Yes," Abraham answered. He eyed Darrel as if he was sizing him up, a frequent feeling Darrel had when he was around his father.

"Dad…"

"Listen, Dare," Mal interrupted, "We know that you don't want to be an Auror. You're a professor and we…" Mal glanced at Abe, "I understand that. We're just asking for a favor, that's all."

"What's the favor?"

"Son," Abe started, "we want you to be our man on the inside of Drouillard."

"Man on the inside? For what?"

"Does it matter?" Sam asked. He was slouched over in his chair.

"I think it does," Darrel answered.

"The commissioner thinks that Drouillard will be a hot bed for recruitment." Abe said.

"Recruitment for what? Dad, if you want me to do something for you guys, you need to tell me what's happening."

"We can't," Sam goaded.

"Sam, shut it," Abe said. "You've heard about the disappearances, right?"

Darrel nodded. He was interested now. There had been quite a few Muggle disappearances lately and he had wondered if it had anything to do with the magical community.

"There is a group of people who are kidnapping Muggles and using them as slaves. We have no idea where they came from or why they want to enslave these Muggles but they are and it is spreading."

Darrel could remember a number of old families who were famous for keeping Muggles as slaves a long time ago but he had been told that these families had died out almost as soon as America became an actual country.

"Because of the proximity to the school, the commissioner is concerned that Drouillard may be a place that this...whatever it is, will spread to."

"Dad, are you sure you want to put me on this?"

"We've talked about it a lot," Mal answered, "and we want to use you strictly as a informant."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, you're still a teacher primarily,"

"No, I'm sorry Mal, I'm still a teacher, only." Darrel answered. He had been afraid of this; he didn't want to juggle two jobs. He wanted to teach and that's all. This was just another attempt to convert him into an Auror.

"No, Dare, listen. You won't be alone. We didn't want to put this all on you," Mal said.

"Who else will be with me?"

"We'll be sending an Auror to keep an eye on things and get into the investigation deep if need be," Abe said.

"Oh, well than," Darrel started. This actually didn't seem like a bad idea. He loved his family, disappointed in his career choice though they may be. If he could do them a favor he would. "What's the guy's name?"

"What guy?" Sam asked.

"The one that will be helping me out?"

"Her," Mal answered. "You'll be helping her."

Sam laughed.

"What?" Darrel asked.

"I don't know, Mal, I think she's too crazy to be a 'her'," Sam said.

"Sam, shut it," Abe said.

Darrel and his relatives spent the rest of the night talking specifics and conversing about the family. Darrel tried to explain his curriculum for the year but Abe and Sam quickly shot that conversation down. Finally, he watched as three grown men climbed into his oven and disappeared into green flames. He returned to the living room and sat down in one of the chairs in front of the TV. He wondered how this year would be, his past four being rather dull and lifeless; it's how he liked it. He wondered why this year it had to be different.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Separate But Equal

Darrel spent the last week before the start of term writing out his curriculum for classes. As the Muggle Studies teacher, his classes were never obscure nor were they extravagant or dangerous by any means. In short, it didn't take him very long to write out the entire semester's events for all seven years of students.

While he wrote, his mind was mostly preoccupied by the thought of the favor he would soon be undertaking for his father and the Auror's office. He hoped that maybe the commissioner's hunch would turn out to be just paranoia, that this strange phenomenon would cease and be nothing more than a memory.

But the Muggle news proved otherwise. As the days passed, more reports of missing Muggles came over the airwaves and each time he saw them, Darrel wondered who was taking them. Perhaps it was his father's spirit, or rather the family spirit, which drove this curiosity. Darrel knew he was a teacher at heart, but maybe somewhere in there, an Auror lay dormant.

On the start of term, Darrel woke up and prepared a light meal for himself, he was well prepared at this age for the Start Day Feast. As a student, Darrel would stuff himself before he left for school despite his father's warnings otherwise and would spend most of the night bent double over a toilet. His bags sat by the door, one for clothes, another filled with miscellaneous Muggle things to use for class. He grabbed them both and glanced at the clock. It chimed out eight o'clock and Darrel turned on the spot, leaving the tiny apartment behind.

When he whipped into existence again, Darrel was standing on the outskirts of a large park. A sign sat near to where he was standing that said KATY TRAIL STATE PARK, ST. CHARLES MISSOURI. Darrel nodded and made his way to the very edge of the park. He graced the top of a hill and his view opened to look upon a massive river lining the edge of the park's boundaries. The opposite end of the river was nearly out of sight. A line formed from the bank of the river all the way back to the hill that Darrel had just come over and he stopped to take his place. A few Muggle joggers passed and eyed the line, tracing it to the bank of the river. They shrugged and continued their run.

Darrel set down his bags and checked the inside pocket of the jacket he was wearing. As a Muggle Studies teacher, Darrel was adamant about dressing as near to a Muggle as he could for authenticity and also because he never thought he looked good in a robe. From the pocket, he pulled a small piece of parchment that was blank on one side and on the other read _The Lethifold Passage_. He looked up the line and noticed that many other people were holding identical pieces of parchment.

"Good, almost time," he said to himself.

Just then, something heavy knocked Darrel on the back of the head and caused him to nearly fall to his knees. He turned around and noticed a witch with a very large chest that was balanced on her back.

"Would you like some help, miss?" He asked.

The woman spun around glared at him. "Does it look like it?"

Darrel recoiled and turned back around in line. Behind him, he could hear the woman still struggling with the chest until she finally got it off her back and onto the ground.

"Now I just need to find that teacher," the woman said.

Darrel didn't need to hear what the teacher's name was or even that it was a man, he knew immediately that this woman was looking for him. He turned back around and presented his hand. "Darrel Young, pleased to meet you."

The woman's eyes grew wide and her mouth went agape. She took his hand slowly and shook. "Oh, erm, Genevieve Cotter. You can call me Gen. Sorry."

"It's okay," Darrel said. Gen was about a foot shorter than Darrel, but Darrel was tall for a man as it was. She had very short red hair cut close to her head and a long robe on. She seemed to be somewhere around his age if not slightly older.

The chest sat sideways on the ground and looked as if a troll had sat on it at one point. Darrel pulled out his wand and checked around him for Muggles. When he saw none, he waved it and the chest righted itself. "Auror issued I presume?" he asked.

Gen nodded. Darrel checked his watch and noticed that it was nearly 8:15. "About time," he said.

He held up the slip of parchment and turned it over to the blank side. Words began to form on the slip: ROW 18, BOW SIDE – PROF. DARREL YOUNG. "Looks like I'm at the front of the boat this time."

Gen rustled through her robes and pulled out her own slip. "Me too."

Darrel picked up his bags and watched the riverbank. He began counting to himself, a little game that his mother had taught him to play when he was being impatient. This woman that had been assigned to help him, or him help her rather, seemed to be the kind of person he absolutely did not want to spend time with, but he didn't really have an option.

As he reached thirty seconds, a thin fog began to roll off the river.

"That'll be her then," Darrel said.

"Her?" Gen asked.

"I don't know why, but I always thought of the ship as a girl."

"Strange, I thought of it as a muggy old pirate ship."

The fog thickened and reached Darrel. As it flowed past, he thought that he smelled the distinct aroma of rum and spice. He squinted through and fog and could barely make out the outline of a ship waiting at the bank.

The line began to move and Darrel walked forward. From behind him, Darrel heard a commotion and turned to see Gen struggling with her chest. Finally she gave up and waved her wand at the trunk causing it to float alongside her.

After a few minutes Darrel approached the front of the line and broke through the now very thick fog. In front of him stood a huge wooden ship. On this side near the stern were etched in gold letters _The Lethifold_. The ship had been a vessel used by settling colonies to run to the Caribbean and back with stolen goods. The fog kept the prying eyes of Muggles away. Darrel presented his passage slip to a man waiting before the ramp. The man took it and waved his wand at it. At once, the parchment burst into flames and evaporated. Darrel's bags then floated out of his hands and disappeared going onto the ship. Darrel walked up the ramp and took his place on a bench at the front of the ship. Moments later, Gen came too and sat next to him.

"Can you remember the first time you came on this old thing?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "I had forgotten my ticket at home and my father nearly dueled Captain Finchley to let me aboard."

"Wow. I just remember being scared that I would fall off the boat."

The two sat in silence for a while as the boat filled with students. Most of the students were crowded onto the back of the boat and the faculty at the front.

A large, olive skinned man approached Darrel from the rear and brandished a wand. Gen saw him and the man motioned for her to be quiet. As he neared, he flourished the wand and jet of yellow light hit Darrel in the back of the head. Darrel's nose suddenly elongated until it was gray and marked with ridges like that of an elephant's.

"Hey Darrel, what does an elephant do?" the man asked.

"Never forgets," he said in a nasally voice.

He stood up and turned around. The two embraced and the man took away the elephant nose with another flick of his wand.

"Sorry, Darrel. But you always get one elephant nose a year."

"Consider this year's quota full then," Darrel answered.

"Who you got with you, now Darrel?" the man asked. Gen stood and went to shake the man's hand.

"Sorry, forgot the introduction. Gen Cotter, meet Ramsay Bishop. He teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts. Gen Cotter will be teaching Transfiguration this year."

Bishop took Gen's hand and lightly graced it with a kiss. "Pleasure," he purred.

Darrel smacked him on the back of the head and he straightened. Bishop was a few inches taller than Darrel and bald. He was a formidable looking man.

"Transfiguration? What happened to Beuford Holmes?" Bishop asked.

"Turned Sean Blastly into a sofa and never could turn him back. He resigned and took the poor sofa boy to a house in Wales," Darrel said.

"Well, the guy was going senile."

"Sorry to interrupt, but, Bishop, it was nice to meet you, but we have things we need to talk about," Gen said. She had her hands behind her back and looked very stern. Bishop raised an eyebrow and looked from Darrel to Gen.

"Okay, sorry to bother you two. Darrel, I'll see you after the feast." He walked away and as he did, he gave Darrel a knowing look.

The two sat on the bench they had before. The ship, now finally full, broke away from the bank and drifted out into the river. At the wheel, Captain Finchely hawled the massive ship around and took it up river. The ship departed from the city of St. Charles on the Mississippi river, the same point as Lewis and Clark and traveled an unknown distance upriver. Gen scooted closer to Darrel and leaned in. "What have you been told?"

"I'm to watch for kidnappings, or something along those lines."

"How about you teach and I'll look for kidnappings?"

Darrel looked her in the eyes. She seemed completely serious and even slightly angry.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because it's my job. You're a teacher. I'm an Auror."

"My father asked me to keep an eye on things."

"And the commissioner asked me to keep an eye on things. Who do you think counts more?"

"Hey, you don't hear me complaining," Darrel said. "All I want is to teach. But, it seems, if you don't mind me saying, like you may need some help on the teaching side as well."

Gen was quiet for a moment, obviously contemplating the situation.

"Okay, what do you have in mind?"

"How about you let me help you with the investigation every once in a while and I'll help you with teaching Transfiguration."

"Why do you want to help with the investigation?"

"I guess I'm just curious," he said.

She nodded and sat back on the bench. "Okay, deal. But I don't want to do exams. I didn't like taking them and I don't want to give them."

"Fair enough." They shook hands and spent the rest of the trip discussing the classes and how they should proceed.

Before long, the thick fog in front of the ship grew thin. The ship slowed and Captain Finchley guided the ship up to an outcropping of rocks. In front of him, Darrel saw the fog disappear and the massive façade of Drouillard visible towering on an island in the middle of the river.


End file.
